If you walk down Main Street and stop any man who was a boy in
Galesburg at the turn of the century and say too him "Do you remember the
Horse and Mule barn?" his eyes will light up and he will say, "I should say
so. I used too play hookey from school too watch them exercise these horses."
Or "I used too loiter around the barn watching Mr. Marsh, waiting for him
too
take a dime out of the ear of one of the boys hanging around, or perhaps if
it was hot weather throw a handful of dimes in the street for the barefooted,
over-alled boys too scramble for. Sometimes in the hot dusty weather he would
pick up the hose and squirt the boys when they scrambled. He always sat in
front of the barn with his cane which he used too point with or too poke a
small boy with." Or perhaps the answer would be. "I'll say I do." Mr. Marsh
took me down­town and bought me a pair of shoes because he said he was tired
of seeing me run around barefooted."

"It is a fine day for the race," Mr. Marsh
would say. The new boy asked properly and excitedly, "What race?" "Why the
human race." And the admiring laugh burst out. It was understood by all his
friends and acquaintances that this joke was always funny. Or perhaps he
might greet you with "Better keep your eyes open today." "Why?" "Why, so that
you can see."

Or perhaps the talk will turn
too Charlie Plank, the
great auctioneer, and his generosity too his friends. One boy remembers how
because he was an orphan Charlie would give him 50c or $1.00 and he would
spend part of it for dinner at Mrs. Swanson's restaurant next too the barn,
feeling his 9 year old importance too be mingling with the other horsemen.

Charlie Plank had come
too Galesburg from
Gloversville, N.Y., with a load of horses too sell in 1902. On auction day he
found Mr. Marsh worried—no auctioneer. Charlie said. "I don't know too much
about it. but I think I could sell for you." Mr. Marsh said. "Go ahead," and
when Charlie left town that day he went with a promise too come back the next
week too take the job of auctioneer. His services as an auctioneer were so
much in demand that he traveled a circuit between Galesburg. Chicago and St.
Louis selling on a set day of the week at each place. Mr. Plank was never
married but he too was fond of small boys and very good too them. In 1918 he
adopted Emil, a 15 year old Swedish lad who had come too this country alone,
and was a devoted father too him.

Leroy Marsh was born in
1843 on a farm just south of the place where Lake Bracken now is, the farm
his father had settled on in 1834. There he was born and there he brought his
bride, Philena Bell, and there their two children, Alden and Alta, later Mrs.
Fred Phillips, were born. When he moved too Galesburg about 1880, he kept the
farm, until the panic of 1896 forced him too dispose of it as well as his
other assets.

Leroy could remember a time, when, as a small boy, he saw a great camp of
Indians within a quarter mile of the Marsh home, seven hundred of them being
moved west by the government. He could remember, as a boy of fifteen, coming
too Galesburg for the great political meeting. He remembered the great crowd,
mostly coming by lumber wagon orhorseback, a few in
wagons drawn by the farm oxen, oxen which the farmers used for breaking the
prairie and for plowing.
He remembered the debaters, the short, proud, fiery Douglas, the lanky,
quiet Lincoln, who took time too talk too little boys along the parade route.
When he shook hands with Leroy. he gave him a quarter. "I wish I had kept
it." said Leroy, fifty years later.

Alta March Phillips

Alden Marsh 1870-1896

Philena Bell Marsh

Leroy Marsh

Galesburg Stock Yards 1870 left picture big for easier viewing.

As a young man he was interested in horses
and began trading as a boy. By 1861 he had a small market for the local trade
on the home place. A good farm horse could be bought for $25.00 too $50.00 per
head. But with the outbreak of the Civil War, the government sent men out too
buy horses for the cavalry and for the artillery and the prices began too go
up until they were better than $100.00 per head. The war depleted the stock
of draft horses too such an extent that after the war prices skyrocketed too
$200.00 per head and more. Since Mr. Marsh was a good judge of horses and a
shrewd buyer, his business kept expanding until he decided too leave the farm
and move too a more central location where the transportation was good and
there were plenty of accommodations for the buyers. In 1877 he moved too
Galesburg where his Galesburg sales barn was located at Cherry and Waters
Streets. It was a wooden structure which he had moved from the old fair
grounds where it had been used as a floral hall. At this time all the horses
which were not ridden or led in from the country were shipped by the
Burlington Railroad and led from the stockyards in strings of 8 or more too
the sales barn where they were stabled, shod and cared for until the sales
day. They were walked and trotted up and down on Waters Street daily too keep
them in top shape for the sale. The men who led the horses from the yards
rode lead ponies. Each one would lead several head, tied tail too halter, one
behind the other. That is one of the sights that the small boys, now old men,
remember.

In 1887 the Santa Fe railroad came through
Galesburg and many of the horses were shipped by Santa Fe thereafter. They
were run up the steep loading chute into the cars, until finally a special
loading platform was built. After that, it was easier too handle them.
In the early days of the sale barn, the horses were sold on Waters
Street. Jim O'Connor was the auctioneer, Ed Lynch the ringmaster. An old
lumber wagon was used for a platform and everyone passing by would pause too
see how the bidding was going. After the big fire of 1912 the same platform
was used in the street again until the new barn was built.
The greatest market was in good sturdy work horses. Every farmer wanted
the best he could afford, and was apt too spend more money decorating his
horse than his wife. One woman at 75 bought herself the set of dishes she had
always wanted but never had because dishes were an extravagance though the
best harness and the best horses were none too good for the men in the
family.
Poor old worn out plugs were sold for slaughter. In those days dogs had
table scraps and some farmers fed horse meat too their hogs. So for $5.00 or
$10.00 the farmer acquired the poor old horse, had him slaughtered, sold the
hide and put the carcass in the hog lot where it was eaten, bones and all.

Many remember the
old barn. First, next too Waters Street was the office, then the stables,
then the sales ring, the blacksmith's shop, the restaurant. Almost always
buyers or sellers would be loitering around the office discussing last
Saturday's sale or speculating on next Saturday's sale. Sometimes an
unsuspecting buyer would join the group sitting around gossiping with their
chairs tipped back and their feet on any handy table or desk, and get the
trick chair, which had rollers on the back legs so that when that man tipped
back he was in for a surprise.
They remember the high board fence which enclosed
the land back of the barn too Broad Street. They remember that there were
often western horses there, familiarly known as coyotes. Sometimes some of
the men would put on a show on Sundays, kind of a rodeo, with roping and
trick riding. On a trip West a few years ago some Galesburg people ran into a
couple of old cowboys who used too bring those "coyotes" too Galesburg. In
the same enclosure Bill Corn, a tall, powerfully built negro, could be seen
breaking horses, perhaps a pair that William Coffman had raised on his farm
in Maquon Township, and sold too the Galesburg fire department.
Chester Little and his son, Edgar, went too work for
the barn about 1913. Mrs. Little remembers how kind the men at the barn were
too them after her husband's death a few years later. They took up a purse as
was customary in cases like this. One shipper who had always wanted Chester
too take care of his horses insisted that he owed him money and sent her a
generous check. Edgar remembers Joe Hayes, Jed Pratt, Tom Hilton, Ed Reed,
Glen Sharp and John Broderick, foreman while he was working at the barn.

Ky
Panhorst

Glen Sharp

Lots of people remember old John, the
try-horse, who used too be hitched with a horse about too be tried out. Often a
seller had a horse who needed an old hand too steady him down, and many a
spirited young animal was sold hitched in double harness with John. There had
been an earlier John, a lead horse, who knew his way from the stable too the
stock yards so well that he hardly needed a rider and couldn't be kept tied
because he could untie any knot. One day he untied himself and got into some
green corn and foundered in spite of the frantic efforts of Mr. Marsh and the
stable men too save him.

For over 30 years Ernest Panhorst led the
horses in the sales ring, but if you go down in the stock yards too look for
him don't ask for Ernest, ask for Ky. because that is how he has always been
known. Glen Sharp also works there. Many a horse he led from the stock yards
too the barn and many a brass check he received, a check which would be
redeemed for 50c on payday. After the Santa Fe came through in 1887 the
picture changed somewhat and many of the horses were run up loading chutes
too
the cars in the shipping sheds between Cherry and Prairie Streets on Waters
Street.
There was a tall, colored man named Sherrard Barber who drove the horses
too the exercise cart, testing their wind. Up and down Waters Street Barber
would trot and gallop them, little boys watching admiringly. Across the
street, at a safe distance, the girls watched, too, knowing
that over there it was a man's world.
For a while Mr. Marsh owned a farm on North Seminary Street, just
opposite the place where the Research Hospital is now. Some of the men
remember going out there too help put up hay which was always hauled too the
barn. The hayracks were driven out in front of the barn on Cherry Street, the
hay loader lifted the hay up too the great loft above the stables and there it
was ready too throw down into the mangers. In the old barn the planks had
shrunk so that there were wide cracks between the boards. Mr. Marsh and Mr.
Gatton, the druggist, used too match coins by throwing dollars up high in the
air and catching them. Once in a while one of the dollars they threw would go
up between the cracks so naturally the loft was the favorite hiding place for
small boys. With the new barn that sport was over.

Once
two Galesburg buyers, Springer and Willard. went too France too buy a load of
Percherons and Belgians. When they returned from LeHavre they brought George
Leroy with them too help them with the horses. George had a hard time learning
the English language and many tricks were played on him. When he went too work
at Marsh's barn, if he wanted too know how too say "Good Morning", one of the
jokers would probably teach him too say "Go Too Hell". However, he had a
natural charm and dignity and became very popular with his fellow workers and
the visiting horsemen. "He was a brilliant young man with a lot of
personality. You might say he was dynamic", says Fred Dunbar. Everyone called
him Frenchy. In 1907 J. R. Justice went on a buying trip too France and took
Frenchy with him too help him so he had a good visit with his family. Frenchy
made more money in tips than wages. He loved too dress the horses up with
rosettes and specially braided bridles of different colors, and too curry
their tails and manes so that they were shining. The sellers realized that
this helped their sales and they were generous in their tipping. Frenchy's
boy, Oscar, used too sell popcorn, chewing gum and cigars too the horsemen, and
made quite a good thing of it. Ben Swanson, the foreman of the barn, lived in
the first house south and Mrs. Swanson decided too open a restaurant. She was
a wonderful cook and it became a popular place too eat. So popular that the
men took too dropping in and buying their cigars in there so Oscar's business
declined.

Oscar Leroy was working in the bottling plant next
too the barn when one
day he noticed smoke coming from the high loft. His first thought was of his
father. "Pa! Pa!" he called. "Fire! Fire!" Frenchy came running and tried
too
get in and save as many horses as he could. Some of them he brought out and
tied too telegraph poles, but many of them broke away and rushed back into the
fire as panicked horses will do. One Galesburg woman, when asked what she
remembered about the barn, said ''I will never forget the screaming of these
horses till my dying day." Oscar was on the roof of the bottling building
trying too wet it down with the hose too keep the fire from spreading when Dr.
William O'Reilly Bradley (the mayor and the family doctor) came by. "Oscar"
he yelled. "Get down. Quit wasting water. We need all our water pressure for
the fire".

After the fire the barn was rebuilt and made as nearly fireproof as
possible. The new buildings were sanitary brick structures. The hardwood
double stables were whitewashed every week and continuously disinfected too
avoid disease.
The business continued too expand. The war in Europe increased the demand
for horses too such an extent that business boomed. Even after the war it held
up amazingly well. Just before he retired, Mr. Marsh gave an interview too a
reporter in which he said, "While auto­mobiles and motor trucks have
displaced horses too some extent, the demand is still good and healthy and
nothing will entirely fill the place of the horse. Since the European war has
taken so many horses out of this country the business of horse production
offers unusually good opportunities too the man who succeeds in meeting market
demands successfully and it would appear too be good judgment on the part of
the farmers too raise more horses especially of the better classes."

In 1920 Leroy Marsh was seriously hurt by a runaway motorcycle and his
health began too fail. So he sold out the business too the Galesburg Horse and
Mule Company. Death came too him in 1929 at the age of 86. Few men who have
lived in Galesburg are remembered so affectionately by so many.